


You and I Were Fireworks

by hooksandheroics



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 15:56:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5749195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hooksandheroics/pseuds/hooksandheroics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke and Bellamy finally get that drink, and Clarke thinks about whether she still wants to run, or just stay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You and I Were Fireworks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pandorasbox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandorasbox/gifts).



Maybe in another world, she would have left. Followed this strange feeling to go the other way, to plant a last kiss good bye to Bellamy’s lips – to his cheek. There’s this pull at her gut whenever she glances back to where they came from in the woods, an urge to break into a sprint and never come back. There’s nowhere for her to go if she decided to suddenly leave, but Bellamy would let her.

But imagining the last person to see her, imagining Bellamy’s eyes looking at her for the last time. It grounds her.

There’s so much more to everything that has happened than the discovery of her feelings for Bellamy, but she sees him ducking into the med bay, settling next to Raven with his hands hovering over her bad leg, conversing with Wick; she sees him talking with Monty in the quiet of the fireside, eyes soft and understanding, his voice light and low; she sees him smiling at her from across the camp, over the heads of the people in the mess hall, dining and talking – and she realizes just how much he needs her as she does him.

When all of this dies down, and everything quiets down, and it’s just them left, she wants to tell him everything. She wants to bare her soul to him – and if he’d let himself, she wants to know his demons, too. She should be scared, terrified of the idea of another set of eyes privy to the thoughts she has never spoken to anyone else. But she isn’t, and it has everything to do with Bellamy.

And for all those tales when she was young, about demons in the dark and how children should run away from them, she feels like every single piece of her wants to run _to_ his and embrace them the way he has always done with hers.

“Are you still thinking of leaving?” he asks as greeting, sits down across from her and places a metal cup of something that smells suspiciously like the liquor Monty and Jasper used to make. These are their second cups, but it’s a different kind, and she thinks her tongue has gone numb from the first one.

He looks a little bit on the tipsy side, but his gaze is steady and warm. She is hit by another bout of nostalgia – they aren’t children anymore. Monty’s eyes are always haunted, these days. And Jasper wouldn’t even look at anyone, let alone her. Some days are more difficult than others, and she finds herself looking at where the light disappears in between the trees.

Bellamy – Bellamy’s looking at her like he already knows the answer to his question. And he probably does. But that’s him.

It’s the evening, and the world hasn’t quieted down yet, but there’s a calm surrounding the camp during the night and she’d take whatever she can get.

“Yes,” is her honest answer. There’s no use lying to him to appease him, he would know. Just like she’d know if he’s telling the truth whenever she asked him if he already ate, or if he took extra guard shifts again. She and Bellamy – she has never had anyone like him. Maybe with Wells, there was this unspoken bond between them. And she loved Wells, but she loves Bellamy in a way much different.

She loves Bellamy in a way she has never thought she could love anyone, and once the initial fear has subsided, the haze was cleared, she’s come to accept that falling in love might never be in the cards for her anymore, but if she’d let herself, she could fall in love with Bellamy.

He looks down, smiles into his cup and takes a sip. His grimace is more telling than the aroma, but he smiles again, at her, and _yeah,_ she could fall in love with him. _Maybe someday_. “Well, we’d just have to find more reasons for you to stay, then.”

She huffs, hides her grin behind a sip from her cup, and lets herself enjoy the faint music wafting around the camp. She doesn’t know where it’s coming from, but the songs are wordless, and soft and it makes her feel infinite. And she’s content to just sit out here and listen to the steady chatter until she feels sleepy, but Bellamy’s standing from the table, his movements like a declaration of war.

“Come on,” he urges, a hand extended to her.

“Bellamy – what –

He worries his lip, his brows furrowed, as if he’s still battling with the decision in his head, as well. She’s unsure of what it is he’s thinking about, but she finds herself reaching for the hand he’s offering.

Next thing she knows, they’re standing beside the Ark, cool metal walls concealing them from the rest of the camp. It’s dark where they’re standing, but Bellamy is smiling, like getting her there was the biggest victory. He is absolutely tipsy, if not drunk.

“Do you want to tell me what we’re doing here?” she asks, but couldn’t help the smile on her lips. They’re so close and it’s making her lightheaded. Or it could just be the moonshine.

His eyes darken with something akin to desire, something she knows he doesn’t mean to show, but it still steals her breath away. “We’re going to dance.”

“Dance?”

He smirks at her. “It’s not like it’s hard.”

It turns out that with a slightly drunk partner and two left feet, it _is_ hard. She ends up tripping over their feet, laughing and stumbling into him until they just decided to go with swaying in a loose embrace, the euphoria of it all soaking into her skin, letting tension go and letting a strange sense of contentment settle into her bones.

Her head is on his chest, and she’s listening to his heartbeat more than she’s listening to the music. It feels stronger, his heart. And she’s overcome with a gratefulness that it’s him with her right now.

It’s in the quiet of it all that she finds herself saying, “Hey, I love you.”

He pulls back slightly, eyes calm and searching, and somehow she knows he understands. She knows he understands that her heart is still raw, and she’s still longing to run far away, but that she loves him, and one day she might still leave, or she might never and –

He smiles, so close and yet still so quiet in her ears. “I love you, too.”

“I love you – I’m not – but you’re –

“I know. And you’ll have me however you need me.”

She gasps, soft, and kisses him gently on the lips, and it’s what surprises him. His hands are soft on her face, his thumb skimming her jaw, and her hands tighten their grip on his jacket. They stay like that for minutes, just kissing and sighing, and she feels the infinity even stronger in his embrace.

When she pulls away, his eyes are still closed, and his lips are swollen, and he’s _beautiful_.

And when he opens his eyes, he’s dazed and breathless. When she smiles at him, he smiles back and pulls her into his embrace again.

_Maybe someday._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, comrades. Come yell at me on my tumblr (hooksandheroics).


End file.
